I Am No Hero
by Galadriadhar
Summary: How could he, an uncivilized Pokemon from the forest, be any sort of friend? Why did she think of him as... a hero?


For a while I had wanted to write something with an Audino and a Scolipede. I wasn't sure where it would end up going, but the idea came one day that the City Chronicles was a perfect place to set it. After all, there is a forest where uncivilized Pokemon roam.

I'm very happy that this story gets to take its place in the annals of the City.

I AM NO HERO

What I want to relate to you is rather different than the usual chronicles in the lives of the City denizens. This story has Alex and Bill, Dusty and Rutger. But it's not about them. It's about Andrea.

Andrea was an Audino. She worked with Rutger at his day job, a surveyor for the City. Andrea was his assistant.

She was beautiful, gorgeous, fantastically perfect. Andrea had won Miss City for the past three years in a row. But she was also very smart. She was down to earth, humble, and, above all, caring.

Oh? Who am I? Well… I'm the narrator, of course. Have you ever heard the song 'I Am No Hero?' It's by some artist named MandoPony… Aviators? I'm not sure.

That's not the point I'm trying to make, though. The point I'm getting at is… hmm… I'm sorry. I don't know how to say it. I can write, but I can't speak.

Just pretend, all right? Just pretend that I, Steven, can speak well. And maybe pretend that, somehow, an uncivilized Pokemon from the forest can be some kind of hero…

* * *

><p>Andrea cocked her head to the side, trying to get rid of a crick. She had been looking through the surveyor machine for thirty minutes straight, attempting to line up the third latitude with the construction site. She sighed at the fruitless time she'd spent.<p>

"Your roto-gear is off slightly," a voice grumbled from behind her. Andrea jumped, gasping, then put a paw over her heart.

"Rutger, you scared me half to death!" Andrea complained. "Warn me next time, will you?"

Rutger chuckled. "Nothing would have warned you, Andry. You were focusing harder than a Scolipede when it hunts."

"Oh…" Andrea sighed again. "The roto-gear's been off this whole time?"

"Depends on how long you've been working, Andry." Rutger clumped over to the surveyor machine and twisted a dial ever so slightly. "Try it now."

Andrea put her eye back to the machine and made a minute adjustment. She grinned.

"I take it your lines work now."

"They do!" Andrea pulled away from the machine, eyes shining. Then they clouded. "I'll never graduate to a regular surveyor…" She dropped to the ground, frowning.

Rutger sat down next to her. He patted her on the back. "Have I told you about my apprenticeship, Andry?"

Andrea eyed Rutger warily. "This won't end in me getting pushed in mud, will it? That story you told about the pretty Blastoise sort of turned me off of hearing any of your tales."

Shaking his head, Rutger chuckled. "No mud, I promise. Do you want to hear it?"

Andrea moved her head back and forth, vacillating. "All right," she said finally.

Rutger rested back on his palms. "I was a young Squirtle," he grumbled. "My parents owned the surveying company. I started an apprenticeship far earlier than most.

"My hands were… let us just say they were not agile. They could not turn the roto-gear. I managed, singlehandedly with one hand, to break three surveyor machines." Rutger cracked a smile. "My parents were far from pleased.

"One day, after a failed session of work, I was walking dejectedly home. You see, I walked Third and Broadmarsh. In those days, there was an instrument shop. It was run by a Kricketune named Marshall. He could make all sorts of instruments. I loved stopping by his store and watching as he shaped the wood necessary for violins, cellos, and clarinets.

"My favorite instrument, though, was the bass. To me, it was regal, full of potential and power. That day, as I was walking home, Marshall was shaping the body of a bass. He saw me watching and smiled, beckoning for me to come in. I needed no more bidding.

"I rushed into the shop and went to the table Marshall was working at. He looked down at me. I remember his shop smelled like the freshest oak and pine.

"He knelt down and gestured at the bass. 'You like it, my little friend?' he asked. I nodded. 'You work for me for two weeks, I give it to you. You want to do that?' I was speechless."

Rutger shook his head, chuckling. "I'm sure I looked like a Magikarp out of water. But I agreed quickly. For two weeks he had me sweeping the shop, sorting inventory, stocking shelves, measuring Pokemon for instruments, cleaning display instruments, and fetching wood from a special stock Marshall kept in the back.

"In return, he showed me the basics of building instruments. He taught me how to read music. And when the two weeks were up, Marshall gave me the bass.

"As I held it, he knelt down next to me. 'Take good care of instrument, little friend Rutger. This bass, it is one of my best. It will serve you well, I must think.' Marshall patted me on the back, gave me a book of bass lessons, and sent me on my way."

"Just like that?" Andrea asked, eyes wide.

"Just like that," Rutger grumbled. "Marshall was a Pokemon of honor. I went back several times to help him around the shop. In return, he taught me how to play the bass. As my fingers began to memorize the strings and chords, they grew agile. They were able to use the surveyor machines. My parents had been skeptical, but they ended up proud of me."

"Wow…" Andrea breathed. "Is Marshall still around?"

Rutger nodded slightly.

Andrea rubbed her cheek. "But… what does that story have to do with me?"

Rutger shrugged lopsidedly. "Maybe something, maybe nothing. It took me a very long time to be able to use the surveyor machines, Andry. Altogether, I finally mastered the machines after a very long seven years." He patted Andrea on the back. "What you take from the story is up to you, Andry."

"Rutger… Thank you."

Rutger grumbled.

* * *

><p>Andrea had bid Rutger farewell for the night, stifling a yawn as she did so. She began walking home, feet guiding her unconsciously to Third and Broadmarsh.<p>

Halfway down the lane she stopped in front of a shop. The façade was dusty and worn, but Andrea recognized it. She wasn't quite sure why her feet had carried her here, but she wasn't going to complain.

_Wooden Notes_, the storefront said. _Marshall and Falloway, Proprietors._ The storefront recalled an era of long ago, with white, red, and blue stripes backing the lettering.

An old Kricketune sat on a stool in the window, overhead lamp illuminating his hands as he carved and whittled a long tube. Thick glasses sat on his wrinkled face.

Andrea neared the window, fascinated by the work of the Kricketune's hands. He stuck a knife with a circular blade into the tube, scraping it around to smooth the insides. With the blade still in the tube, he placed a small block of wood at the narrowest end, turning it this way and that.

Then, to Andrea's surprise, the Kricketune looked up at her. She stumbled away from the window, breathing quickly. The Kricketune stood and walked to the front door.

"Come in, my friend," he called. "The night will be cold before long."

Andrea hesitantly entered the shop. The Kricketune closed the door quietly behind her. As he walked slowly to stand next to her, Andrea looked around the shop in awe.

Dust floated in the air, giving the place a feeling of antiquity. Rows of violins, cellos, violas, basses, clarinets, saxophones, snare drums, oboes, and many other instruments that Andrea didn't recognize filled the shop. The instruments seemed to watch her with curiosity.

_I'm sure she wants a fine oboe._

_ Naw, she's lookin' for a saxophone, man._

_ Clarinet, my uneducated friend._

_ Viola! YEAH!_

She shook her head and the voices faded. The Kricketune gave an easy smile. "Do you hear their voices, my friend?"

Andrea turned to the Kricketune. "You mean…" she trailed off.

The Kricketune nodded fractionally. "It is not your imagination, my friend." He gestured creakily to the instruments. "Each one has its own voice. Only the truly special can hear the voices.

"Does that mean I'm special?" Andrea asked. Her heart was pounding.

"You are, my friend. I have only met two others, in my seventy years in the City, who could hear the voices. A small Squirtle named Rutger and a Riolu named Bill." The Kricketune laughed as Andrea started. "Do you know them?"

"Rutger is a Blastoise, and he's my mentor at my job," Andrea said. "Bill is a Lucario now, married to a Lopunny named Lilia, and father of a Buneary named Holly. Rutger plays the bass in the quintet at the _Radiant Star_, and Bill plays the piano at the _Café Na Rigara_." Her eyes widened. "I'm so sorry! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Andrea."

The Kricketune extended a gnarled hand. "Marshall." Andrea took his hand and shook it. "Thank you for telling me about Rutger and Bill," Marshall murmured. "I have wondered about them. I have not seen them in a very long time…" He trailed off.

Andrea, feeling slightly uncomfortable, looked around the store again. Her eyes seemed to be attracted to the clarinet section of the shop.

Marshall noticed her gaze. "I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention."

"Please, don't worry," Andrea replied. "I'm just not very good around sadnesses."

"Do you like the clarinets, Andry?" Marshall asked. Andrea gave him a grateful look.

"I do," she whispered, moving toward them. "I've always loved the clarinet. I had been taking lessons, but then my mother died and we couldn't pay for them anymore. I'm working just to make ends meet."

Marshall watched her, making quick calculations in his head. "Here," he said, limping past her and taking a clarinet down. "Show me a major D scale."

Andrea shot him a quizzical look but took the clarinet. She checked the reed, fixed it slightly, and put the clarinet to her lips. Playing a couple of notes to orient herself, Andrea moved her fingers quickly and then played a major D scale.

"Minor D." Andrea complied. "Major C scale." Again she played. "Improvise." And she did.

Marshall nodded in satisfaction. "I have heard enough." He moved over to his work table. "You may play that as long as you would like. I would only ask that you stay here for two hours. Your music refreshes my soul."

"Of course," Andrea said quietly.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Marshall pushed away from the work table. Andrea had played the clarinet for almost the full two hours, only stopping to take drinks of water. Marshall was glowing inside. He was ready.<p>

Andrea finished Master Kricketune's _War Vulture Concerto_ and took the clarinet from her mouth. She felt happier than she had in a long time. The mistakes of her apprenticeship and the poverty-stricken state of her family had faded until they didn't seem quite so significant.

"Thank you, Marshall," she whispered. "Playing this was…"

"Soothing?" Marshall finished. "I understand. That's why I would like you to have this." Marshall picked up the clarinet he had been working on. It was the same tube that Andrea had seen him shaping earlier. Now it was a magnificent instrument, deep black with brass keys and a luster that spoke of royal grandeur.

Andrea's breath caught. "You…"

"It's yours, Andry. Use it to soothe your soul." Marshall handed the clarinet to Andrea, who took it gently.

She ran her paw over the clarinet, feeling the smooth finish of the instrument. "I can't take this," she said apologetically. "It's too marvelous for me."

"_Au contraire_, Andrea," Marshall countered. "It is not marvelous enough. But it is the finest clarinet I have ever made. It is just appropriate enough for you. Please, take it with my blessing."

Andrea wiped a paw across her eyes. "What can I ever do to repay you?"

"Talk to Bill and Rutger for me. Have them come and visit." Marshall made his way to the door and opened it for Andrea. "And get some advice from them. They know a thing or two about sharpening skills."

* * *

><p>Bill looked up as the door to the <em>Café Na Rigara<em> opened. He expected to see Winston coming in for his daily hondew berry juice, but instead an Audino entered. Bill's eyes widened.

"Andrea! What are you doing here?" he asked, beckoning for Andrea to come over to the piano.

"I came to talk to you, Bill," Andrea replied. She was carrying an instrument case in her left paw.

"Is that… is that one of Marshall's instruments?" Bill questioned, eyes even wider.

"How did you know?"

Bill shrugged and turned the page of his music. "I worked there long enough to recognize his cases. Anyway, is that what you're here for?"

"Marshall suggested that I talk to you and Rutger about sharpening my skills. Do you have any advice?"

Shaking his head, Bill grinned. "That sly Kricketune. Do you have a woodwind?"

"It's a clarinet, so yes," Andrea said. "Can you help?"

"Marshall knows me all too well. Before I started with the piano, I played the flute." Andrea snorted. "You can laugh, but it's true! I was one of the best flautists in the University. Whenever I wanted to practice a piece, I would go into the forest's north side. There's a stump in a clearing there, and I would play the piece as I stood on the stump. It was a great way to imagine an audience, so that when the time came to perform, I was fully prepared."

"Would you suggest going there?" Andrea asked.

Bill closed his eyes and sighed. "I hoped you wouldn't ask that question. Look, there are plenty of safer places to practice, Andrea. The _Radiant Star_ is a good place. At least, it is before seven o'clock. You could also get Dusty to let you into one of the University's unused lecture halls."

Andrea waved those away. "What's wrong with the clearing? You used it!"

"Andrea, I know. I shouldn't have. I was lucky that I got away without any lasting damage. The uncivilized Pokemon that roam through the north side are dangerous. They're far more dangerous than anyone really understands." Bill watched Andrea as she sagged. "If you're determined to go, though… Ask Alex and Dusty to go with you. Will you do that for me?"

Andrea sighed. "Okay. I'll do that."

Bill lightly punched Andrea in the arm. "It's going to be all right, Andry. If they can't, I'll get you a key to the practice room at City Hall."

"You're the best, Bill!"

* * *

><p>Neither Dusty nor Alex could go with Andrea. She sighed before remembering that Bill had only said to ask them. He hadn't said to not go if neither of the others could go with her.<p>

The north side of the forest was dark, and Andrea was beginning to question the wisdom in going alone. Sticks broke in the undergrowth, distant howls broke through the air, and eyes seemed to glow in the shadows.

Finally Andrea reached the clearing. The trees didn't reach across the clearing, so strong sunlight poured into the area. A large stump sat in the middle of the clearing.

As she looked around, the fear that had filled her fled.

* * *

><p>Whispers filled the forest surrounding the clearing.<p>

_"A morsel? How refreshing!"_

_ "How wonderful, indeed!"_

_ "Shall we descend?"_

_ "Shall we spread the nightmare that we are?"_

_ "Not yet, my shadows. Soon we will strike. Soon…"_

* * *

><p>Andrea put the clarinet to her mouth and began to play. She fingered a few scales before launching into Master Kricketune's <em>Sevia Mar Leddenem, The Light Tapes.<em> It was a piece that always filled her with joy.

As the notes floated into the forest, the whispers ceased. A passing shadow stopped in its tracks, cocking its head to listen.

_"The music is painful, my shadows. It is time."_

The music continued to flow from the clarinet and Andrea closed her eyes as the notes surrounded her. Around the clearing the undergrowth rustled.

The shadow that had been passing turned to the rustling. It barreled out of the forest as five Houndoom crept out, eyes fixed on Andrea. The Houndoom stopped upon hearing the sound of the Scolipede that rushed toward them. They turned as one to face the Scolipede and, as panic filled their faces, the Scolipede crashed into the Houndoom, sending them soaring into the sky.

All through this, Andrea had played. The Scolipede examined the clearing. Seeing no other threats, it settled down and listened to Andrea's music. Its face relaxed.

Andrea fingered the last few notes and let them fade. She sighed happily and opened her eyes.

She screamed.

The Scolipede was sitting a few feet away, eyes closed and mouth fixed in a smile. At the scream, the Scolipede opened its eyes. "Are you… done?" the Scolipede asked.

Andrea was breathing heavily, trying to keep the panic down. She nodded frantically.

"Oh…" the Scolipede sighed. It got to its feet. "That is… sad."

"LOOK OUT!" Andrea shouted, pointing behind the Scolipede. It turned quickly and bashed the approaching Mightyena on the head.

"Stay away," the Scolipede growled, picking up the unconscious Mightyena with its horns and throwing it into the forest. It nodded in satisfaction and looked back at Andrea. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open.

"You… saved my life…" Andrea whispered.

The Scolipede cocked its head. "I did. Is that bad?"

"Oh! Oh no! That's wonderful! I'm very happy that you did!" Andrea babbled. "I just didn't expect that from… one of… you."

"What do you mean?" the Scolipede asked.

"One of… oh great…" Andrea put her face in her paws. "One of the uncivilized Pokemon of the forest."

"I see… Your music was nice. I didn't want anything to happen to you," the Scolipede said. "Some Houndoom tried to attack you earlier. I beat them so that you wouldn't get hurt."

"I… see. Thank you."

The Scolipede nodded. "Sure. What's your name?"

"Andrea."

"My name is Steven." Steven slowly said Andrea's name to himself. "Andrea. I like that name. Will you make some more music?"

Andrea lifted the clarinet. "Of course, Steven."

* * *

><p>Steven showed up at every practice session after that. He really enjoyed the music, and Andrea enjoyed his company. He was childish in mind, but also very wise in his own way.<p>

About two and a half months after the first day at the clearing, Andrea was practicing _Oren Mi Oroja _by Ikelm. Steven was swaying back and forth in time to the music. One attack had already been fended off, the Poochyena that had attacked lying unconscious around the clearing.

Rustling in the undergrowth caused Steven to stop and look around. His eyes narrowed as the bushes shook. A Lucario, an Ampharos, and a Watchog entered the clearing.

Andrea opened her eyes soon enough to yell, "Stop!" Steven skidded to a halt in front of the very surprised faces of Bill, Alex, and Dusty. "What are you three doing here?" Andrea asked, hopping off of the stump.

"I think it would be better to ask what _you're_ doing here, Andrea," Bill said, eyeing Steven. "I told you to bring Alex and Dusty with you."

"Technically, you said to ask them," Andrea pointed out. "You never said I couldn't come if they weren't able to come."

"Ah…" Bill closed his mouth. Alex poked Bill in the side.

"She's got you there, Bill."

"I know that." Bill continued eyeing Steven. "Andrea, I really don't think it's a good idea to be out here."

Andrea rolled her eyes as Bill gestured subtly at Steven. "Steven is not one of the uncivilized, Bill," Andrea said. "He's my friend."

Dusty shook his head in bewilderment. "Of all the crazy things… Well, let's go home."

"Dusty, wait," Bill commanded. "Come on, Andrea. We're going back."

"No dice, Bill," Andrea countered. "Steven's a good Pokemon. You may not see it, but he's been my friend for two and a half months."

Steven looked at the four quizzically.

"Two and a half months?" Bill questioned. "Really?"

"Yes!" Andrea moved to Steven and stood behind him, paw on his back. "And if you insist on fighting him, you'll fight me, too."

Bill opened his mouth, but he was cut off by Alex shouting, "Pack!"

Steven gently pushed Bill aside and turned to face the pack of Pokemon. Mightyena and Houndoom made up the bulk of the pack, with a couple of Jolteon scattered throughout.

"Stay here, Bill," Steven said. He walked up to the pack.

"Move, Scolipede," the lead Houndoom snarled. "The four are intruders and, as defined by the laws of the Thirty-Age, are our prey. By getting in the way, you get in the way of ancient law."

"You forget, Houndoom," Steven said quietly, "that the laws of the Thirty-Age also define what is required for a protected visitor. All that is required is for a Pokemon of the forest to have protected the visitor. These four are under my protection. Leave, and I do not think badly of you."

"Your pretty words cannot hide your childish demeanor," the Houndoom barked. "You think yourself to be a hero, but you are not!"

"I am not a hero, Houndoom," Steven replied. "I am their friend."

The Houndoom laughed harshly. "Friendship? That will never last!" It charged forward and the rest of the pack followed suit.

Steven narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, engaging the first Houndoom.

Alex covered Andrea's eyes.

* * *

><p>The dust had settled, and Steven was still standing. He was breathing hard, body heaving with effort. Scratches covered him from head to foot. But his eyes were bright.<p>

Andrea pushed Alex's paws away. "Steven!" she yelled, running to him.

"Andrea…" Steven whispered. Then he collapsed.

* * *

><p>"Andrea? Are you there?" Bill asked, entering the clearing.<p>

"I'm here…" Andrea's voice said from behind the stump. Bill made his way to where Andrea sat, cradling the clarinet Marshall had given her. In the fight, Steven had thrown a Jolteon and it had landed on the unattended instrument. The result was a broken woodwind.

Bill gave a small half-smile. "How are you doing?"

Andrea gave a one-sided shrug. "I don't know." She paused, then continued. "Something's different. I feel… almost unfair. That's a poor way to describe it. It doesn't seem right that I'm here, mourning the loss of my clarinet, when Steven is at the _Café Na Rigara_ getting his wounds tended." Andrea grimaced. "It just… seems like I've mixed up my priorities, but I don't know how to change them again."

Bill slid down the stump next to Andrea. "I understand," he said. Andrea turned to him. "It's true. Once I was in a fight at the University. Someone was accusing Alex of cheating, and so I started hitting the accuser with my flute. The accuser had a rather hard skull."

Andrea giggled. "The flute broke?"

"Right down the middle. Marvelous break. I still have the pieces. I'll show them to you. Anyway, I spent more time bemoaning my flute's destruction than comforting Alex. I didn't feel too good about myself."

"What changed?"

Bill glanced at Andrea. "What makes you think something changed?"

"Well, you wouldn't be telling me this story if nothing had changed."

"True. Well, Old Finn came and found me. He listened to me complain. Then he gave me some of the soundest wisdom I've ever heard. He said, "Bill, don't give a flip about your flute. Instruments can be fixed. Broken friendships are far harder to fix.' He patted me on the back and left. That's when I put the flute in its case, got up, and went to talk with Alex." Bill gave a wry smile. "It was a bit stormy for a couple of minutes, but things got ironed out."

"I'm glad," Andrea murmured.

"I am, too. So the question comes to this, Andrea: Are you going to make sure your friendship is solid? Instruments can be fixed relatively easily. But friendships aren't so easy to mend."

Andrea considered for a moment. "I think I get it…" She stood, handed the broken clarinet to Bill, and raced off into the forest.

Bill pushed himself up. "Well, I've been meaning to visit Marshall," he said quietly, looking at the broken clarinet.

* * *

><p>"Steven!" Andrea called, entering the <em>Café Na Rigara<em>. Estelle came out from the back.

"Andrea, Steven's in the back. You can see him, but please don't wake him. He's-" The last of what Estelle wanted to say was lost as Andrea shot past her.

The back was dim, and Andrea blinked as her eyes adjusted. She could see a large shadow looming over her.

"Steven?" she whispered.

"Hello, Andrea," the shadow said.

"I'm… I'm sorry I didn't come right away!" Andrea blurted, hugging Steven tightly. She felt him wince at the contact, but didn't let go.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I was worried about my clarinet. I wasn't worried enough about you. You're my friend! My hero! I don't want to lose you as a friend… Will you forgive me, Steven?" Andrea looked up at Steven's shadowy face.

The light flicked on and both blinked quickly. John left the back of the room, whistling to himself.

"Will you forgive me, Steven?"

Steven frowned. "There's nothing to forgive, Andrea. I understand what you were doing."

"Well, will you forgive me anyway?"

"Yes," Steven said frankly. "But I'm no hero. I am your friend."

Andrea hugged Steven even tighter. "You _are_ a hero, Steven."

"If I am a hero, then you are one, too," Steven replied.

And somewhere deep inside, both Andrea and Steven liked the sound of that.


End file.
